


Captain Salacious

by heathenseyes



Category: Chuck (TV)
Genre: Drinking, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-26
Updated: 2014-09-26
Packaged: 2018-02-18 21:31:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2362766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heathenseyes/pseuds/heathenseyes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Its funny what a little beer can lead too. (Or that time when Chuck totally outted himself to Casey and it really worked out for them both)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Captain Salacious

**Author's Note:**

> Ratings: PG-13  
> Spoilers: None Really  
> Beta: ilovesn, blainesgirl (mistakes are still all mine though and this was way back from my LiveJournal days)  
> Disclaimer: I don't own any of it!

~~--~~

Chuck glanced out the window, catching slivers of the sinking sun through the blinds of Casey‘s apartment. 

It amazed him at times. Casey worked for both Buy More and for the NSA. Chuck would have assumed that the man could have gotten better window treatments. Not that the blinds were ugly or anything. They actually matched the inside of Casey’s apartment pretty well color-wise. But they were just so…boring. 

Everything was boring at the moment

Okay, Chuck could do this he told himself firmly, clamping down his jaws so that he would not yawn, not betray any sign of his colossal boredom. 

After all there was only....

Chuck glanced at his watch and winced. There was still another hour and a half of the game left.

Great! 

Okay, he could still do this. 

He could pretend to be interested in this new and strange form of torture called football that Casey had decided to inflict upon him. 

Man.

This so sucked. 

He'd never quite understood football or baseball or basketball or...just about any sport really. It wasn't that he had anything against them or anything. It was just that...well, there always seemed to be more interesting things to do or see than just sitting a bunch of men basically running back and forth across the television. 

Even drinking hadn't made it more interesting. With the couple of beers he'd had so far, it still just looked like a lot of guys running back and forth, back and forth. Just to break up the monotony, every so often they would tackle one another or 'pile' on each other. 

Yay.

Great! And to make it worse, he was stuck watching hours of it. It was all because Casey had been assigned the ‘Chuck babysitting duty’ by Sarah for the night while she took care of some 'business'. 

Business, like he needed her to lie to him. He'd only seen her aflutter like that once before. That had been when she'd learned that Bryce was alive. It'd been several months since they'd last seen the rogue agent and since then, Chuck had thought he'd developed a good friendship with her. 

Then she did something like this; asking Casey to watch over Chuck for the night which reminded him that despite their friendship, he was still a job. And because of that, he didn't really know her. Sarah could have at least been honest with him and told him she was seeing some one. 

Did she? No. She had just smiled at him as she dropped him off that the door of Casey's apartment like he was her kid being left behind at the babysitter's. 

Okay. 

Maybe not her kid. After all, Sarah had also dropped off a twelve pack of beer for them to enjoy, not too many mothers did that. The beer, it'd been like a little peace offering. A twelve pack of which only two beers had been finished off from and those two only. Chuck knew his limit. It was really only one beer, but with how the night had been going, the second had disappeared before he'd even noticed. 

And even then, he'd been drinking alone. Casey didn't like beer. A little niggling part of him didn't like that he hadn't known something so basic about Casey. With all they time they spent together Chuck should know the basics about them both. They were his handlers. They knew his allergies, his underwear size, and what side of the bed he liked to sleep on. And he didn't know Jack. Well...maybe he did know something about Casey. For all of Chuck's pining over Sarah, it was Casey who actually opened up to him, one painstaking layer at a time. Plus, Chuck wasn't an idiot, he could actually use his eyes and ears and put the puzzle pieces together. 

John Casey was a quiet man. The kind of man who allowed actions to speak for him more than words. For Casey actions definitely spoke louder than words. Perhaps that was why the other man kept his vocal usage to an absolute minimum. Why speak when he could smash. Kinda like the Hulk. 

A Hulk with really non-PG vocal capabilities. As far as Chuck had seen most of Casey's vocalizations appeared to be mostly in the forms of either threats, the occasional warnings, an incredibly broad selection of curse words which Chuck was pretty certain didn't either A) exist or B) were physically possible, and an even greater range of lewd innuendos. 

Out of all of the rather crass oral capabilities that Casey demonstrated it was the lewd innuendos that bothered Chuck the most, especially when they were directed at him and his lack of...any thing. 

The threats, once upon a time, had scared the hell out of him. Particularly when delivered in the low gravelly tone that promised a great deal more pain than Casey's words could ever impart. At a certain point though, Chuck had discovered that the threats seemed to lose some of their intimidation factor. Still, Chuck had to concede, not all of their menace was lost. 

There were still more instances than he was entirely comfortable with when something life-endangering would occur and Casey would then promise a more painful ending than even the bad guys had as yet managed to threaten with. In those instances it was still more than possible that Chuck would perhaps scream in a slightly more feminine than masculine manner. 

Thankfully, those times were few and far between. 

Really.... 

Of course, that point had been first preceded by a great deal of painfully realistic images. 

Not only did Chuck have a really active imagination but Casey was more descriptive of the things that he would do to Chuck should he annoy him just too much. Casey, Chuck had discovered, had mastered the ability to describe things with viscerally, agonizing imagery amazing well. 

However, girly screaming or no, it still remained that the more than a few threats to his life didn't phase him as much as they once did. At this point, it just was a day if some one wasn't out to try and kill him. Or torture him. Or kidnap him and force him too....

He was deviating and he also didn't want to dwell on just how used to the constant threats he was becoming which could be due to the sheer amounts of near death experiences he'd gone through since his brain had become the home to the Intersect. Or it could be the simple fact that he was pretty certain Casey wouldn't let anything harm him. Even if it was because the NSA agent would prefer to do the physical harming personally instead of allowing some nameless assassin or spy do it. 

Either way, most of the threats, operative word being most, Chuck could pretty much ignore; most meaning even if more than a few still made him want to curl into a ball and chant 'it's not real, it's not real' in Klingon. 

As for the cursing...well...despite the fact that Casey could use terms that caused Chuck to blush more often than was strictly comfortable with wasn't something Chuck couldn't handle. 

The lewd innuendos were a completely different matter though. As if to add insult to injury, Casey often didn't have to speak to be lewd. There were times when he just seemed to ooze lewdness. 

Hmm…lewd. 

Well, perhaps lewd wasn't exactly the right word. 

For some reason, it stuck in Chuck's craw when he thought it in conjunction with Casey. Strangely, the word seemed to...coarse. 

Salacious? 

That was it. 

Meant the same thing but it seemed to fit so much better. 

Salacious meant that something was obscene, lustful, and lecherous. Funnily enough, for all the coarse definitions it still rolled off the tongue so easily, almost decadently in an incredibly beguiling manner. 

Just like John Casey, even though he was almost the exact opposite. 

On the outside he was coarse, rough, inclined to violence, and often invoked memories. Memories of the bullies that had tormented Chuck all through out his childhood until Ellie had grown sick of it and showed the worse ones just why some one didn't mess with her little brother. 

That was just the outside though. 

On the inside, Chuck had caught enough glimpses of something more so often that it was frustrating. Casey just kept on pretending to be big scary, Neanderthal-like, and entirely too intimidating secret agent who oozed sex. 

Not that he thought Casey oozed sex out of his pores or anything. 

Nope. 

It was nothing like that. 

Nope. 

It was nothing at all like that. 

"What?" Casey asked, his eyes never wavering from the TV. 

Crap. 

Chuck realized he must have spoken out loud; he just had to figure out which part he had said. Hopefully he didn’t say the oozing part. Dear God, please no. 

"It’s nothing, nothing at all." Casey's eyes finally broke away from the TV and the look he gave Chuck clearly said he wasn't buying it. "I mean, uh, I said that I...can't believe he made that shot?" 

Crap. That wasn't supposed to have come out like a question. Now he sounded like an idiot. 

Like Casey needed more of a reason to think he was some kind of pathetic nerd. 

Not that he cared if Casey thought that at all or not. 

Crap. 

It seemed unfair that even in the privacy of his mind Chuck's ability to curse still remained PG-13. 

"For God's sake, Bartowski, he punted the damned thing. This is football, not basketball. Hell, they don't even make shots. Get your sports straight." The last was growled as Casey turned his attention back to the TV and Chuck almost sighed in relief. 

When in fear of discovery, make a sports comment. Even if it was an incorrect sports comment. 

Yep. 

This was a stellar night. 

Here he was, holding a conversation with himself while he was stuck sitting here...watching football with Captain Salacious. 

"Captain who?" 

Casey's attention was once again turned upon him. 

Chuck quickly realized this was why he never drank. His inner monologue sometimes became outer monologue with the aid of alcohol. Plus, his befuddled head was using some pretty large words that he normally didn't use in his every day life. 

Bryce had pointed that out once, that Chuck was the only drunk who could still use words like vexatious which Casey was being without even trying and salacious which Casey was because he oozed sex....

Not that Casey oozed sex! 

Or that Chuck had noticed any thing like that! 

Of course not! He was simply just a very salacious person and Chuck was pretty certain that his stomach shouldn't be doing those little flip flops in conjunction with thoughts of Casey and sex.

Uh-oh.

"Salacious?" Casey had turned his full attention to Chuck know, his brow furrowing in confusion. 

Crap. He had done it again. 

"It was nothing?" Crap. Chuck hated that. It still came out like a question. 

"Who the hell is Captain Salacious?"

Chuck couldn't stop the current mantra of oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god that was currently running through his head long enough to even come up with something. Anything that he could give the other man as an excuse would work! He was praying for any possibly feasible fabrication. 

Casey sighed, picking up the channel changer and switching off the TV. "This isn't going to have to be one of those talks again?" 

Chuck mentally screamed. Just because he had asked one time what exactly one of Casey's more colorful curses had meant....

Chuck still maintained that...that was not physically possible!!!

"No!!" Lunging for the remote, Chuck fumbled with the channel changer. A flush spread across his cheeks as he tried to coordinate his fingers under Casey's amused gaze. And he was definitely not at all flustered because this was the first time since Chuck had come over three hours earlier that Casey had directed more than a glancing interest in his charge with a gaze that looked pretty predatory. And the blush he felt spreading from his face on-wards was definitely not because Chuck had been thinking about how the larger man practically exuded carnal magnetism. 

Chuck had managed to turn the television back on just about the same time his head hit the table, the thud resounding just over the excited yell of the announcer, and Chuck brought his head back up, blinking rapidly, his head slightly drooped in defeat. 

It was like losing a battle, one he hadn't even been aware that he'd been fighting. It was like Casey, who Chuck had first mentally compared to a walking ape that first time he'd seen him, had some how wriggled into his brain. 

"Aren't you tired of it?" Chuck's voice surprised him just about as much as it did Casey.

See this? 

This was Chuck giving up because his brain had suddenly decided to mentally dissect a man who could probably break his entire body using only his pinkie. 

"I'm not going to get to watch the rest of the game am I?" The resignation that filled the NSA agent's tone did nothing to dissuade Chuck from his sudden inability to keep his mouth closed. Especially when Casey sounded more amused than annoyed which was too bad because annoyed probably would have helped Chuck to reign in his mouth because he really didn't want to die.

"I'm serious. Why do you keep on with the scary intimidation thing?" Chuck began, his mouth completely taking control and running with it. "Why does ever other word out of your mouth seem to be some type of curse and I mean really, how many different cuss words do you really need to know, and in how many languages? It's ridiculous! For that matter, how many ruthless killers have a larger selection of silk kimonos than one of those...of those...geisha?!?!? It’s almost obscene the amount of them that you have! And that's another thing! You! You are Captain Salacious! You know why?" 

Casey had grown still during the rant, a fact that Chuck's mind was trying to impose the importance of on his mouth. Unfortunately Chuck's lips had apparently decided it was do or die. With the scowl that Casey was wearing he knew he was in trouble and Chuck's brain was betting it was the latter choice, regretting ever having started the tirade in the first place. 

"You ooze sex!" Chuck practically shouted the words, making them sound like an accusation. "I've never met a man who oozed sex before! Every other sentence that I have heard from you lately in some way relates to how much I need to be laid and my naiveté! What do you care?!? What Casey? Are these comments your backward way of offering to teach me some tricks?

Chuck's brain completely shut down, disassociating itself from the mouth with sudden speed. Chuck was left a little dizzy and more than a little confused as to how he had managed to cross the entire couch until he was practically...okay, not practically, because he was sitting on Casey's lap. 

Casey was oh-so very quiet and so emphatically still that if Chuck hadn't been sitting on his lap he wouldn't have even been able to see the rise and fall of the larger man's chest as he breathed. 

Oh, God, he was going to die. 

"Is that it, Bartowski?" The words were growled and Chuck shivered a little, the slight movement causing him to shift just enough that Casey suddenly took in a deep breath of air, a faint flush tingeing his cheeks. 

Chuck's brain kicked back in pointing out that that had been an interesting reaction. 

Maybe death wasn't in his future today. 

"No." Chuck said slowly, bringing his face closer to Casey, just enough so that he could feel the puffs of airs coming from Casey's mouth, kiss-ably close some would say. "So, are you?" A small muscle tick started, right at the edge of Casey's jaw. His jaw really was a piece of art. "Are you trying to ask me something?"

"I think you should move. Now." Casey ground out, the words spoken so softly that Chuck had to strain to catch them, the threat evident in Casey's tone as well as his few words, and despite the promise of pain, Chuck couldn't have brought himself to move even if he'd wanted too. 

Not that he wanted too.

"Or what?" Casey growled at the question Chuck posed. 

Chuck was tempted to move in closer, press his suit just a hair more. He couldn't though; he wanted to see just what Casey would do. That is, if Casey would do anything. 

Oh, Great Muppety Odin, if he was wrong about this Chuck was pretty certain Casey wouldn't even give him long enough to experience any amount of pain before he killed him. 

They sat there for a few more moments, breaths mingling, and silence spreading across the room as it stretched the few inches between them into a chasm. It went just long enough that Chuck's brain kicked into preservation mode. His brain started babbling incoherently that it was all his mouth's fault they were in this mess in the first place asking and just what good was having all of the government's secrets stuffed in there if it didn't save him from one of his own body guards exterminating him. 

Chuck was just about to agree, planning on attempting to make a very hurried and ungraceful run for the door when Casey's hands clamped onto his wrists. 

Crap.

Casey must have sensed he was going to run. 

Crap. Crap. Crap. He was going to die and he still couldn't bring his curse words above PG-13. 

Certain death, thy name is John Casey.

Casey was going to keep him there to kill him. Probably very painfully. Hopefully not very slowly. Chuck just knew it, his life was flashing before his eyes. He'd totally read things wrong. Stupid beer! It was totally the beers' fault....

A sharp yank drew his attention. Pain lanced through his arms as Casey none to gently dragged Chuck's hands behind him so that they rested on Casey's back. Casey's very strong...very solid back. Chuck could feel the warmth through the thin cotton shirt Casey was wearing.

Suddenly Casey's hands were moving, one slipping beneath Chuck's shirt to rest above his hip, the thumb stroking the flesh just below Chuck's ribs, while the other hand threaded its way around his neck. There was a small sharp tug as Casey's fingers tangled in the slightly too long curls and Chuck fell into an ardent agreement with his brain as it broadcasted 'Oh. My. God.' through his entire body. 

His mouth, which had the right idea all along, crowed. Or would have. If his lips hadn't been a little busy. 

His lips dropped open right when Casey dove forward the remaining inches. 

Pulling Chuck closer, Casey quickly closed the small gap between them, muffling Chuck's tiny 'eep' with his own mouth. 

Dimly a thought tugged at the back of Chuck's mind. It had to compete with the feelings flooding in as Chuck's hands grew a great deal more daring. His fingers plucked at Casey shirt until it slipped out of the neat tuck it was always in. He could feel the smooth skin beneath his own and wanted more. His brain...and other areas taking a great deal of pleasure with the groan that slipped past Casey's lips at the contact....

Okay, so, it was very, very, very dimly that the thought tugged at the back of Chuck's mind and he wondered just why his mouth tasted like peaches when all he'd had was the beer Sarah had pressed upon him.

But it was a very dim thought which paled in comparison to the taste of Casey and easily forgotten when Casey decided Chuck had too many clothes on. 

~-~

Sarah leaned back in her chair with a widening smirk on her lips as she took off the ears phones. On her television screen she watched as the two men rapidly lost articles of clothing and her eyes grew wide. 

Wow! 

She hadn't known either man was that...flexible. 

Humming happily she raised her beer in salute to her own genius. She'd been getting just a little tired of all that repressed sexual attraction. While her plan hadn't quite worked the way she'd wanted it too since Casey hadn't even taken one sip of the beer, all in all, it had still worked pretty well. 

If she had any luck at all, Chuck wouldn't have noticed the slight peach after taste that the truth serum tended to leave behind. 

Even if he did though, Sarah didn't think he'd mind it. 

Her jaw dropped open as she watched Casey rise from the couch with Chuck still wrapped around him they stumbled towards the bed room. 

No! 

They weren't supposed to move!

All that work and she wouldn't even get to see....!

How dare they?!

Glaring at the screen she watched as the door was slammed behind the two, leaving her nothing to watch. A large pout developed on her lips....

Hmmm....

She couldn't watch, but perhaps....

She brought the headphones back up to her ears. The smirk returned fully to her lips as she closed her eyes, letting her imagination fill in the blanks. 

The next time she heard from Bryce, she'd make certain to tell him he now owed her a hundred bucks.  
~~--~~


End file.
